


The Johnson Caves

by Silverilly



Category: Portal (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Butt Plugs, Cunnilingus, Dominance, Other, Penis In Vagina Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-15
Updated: 2015-11-15
Packaged: 2018-05-01 16:53:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5213561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silverilly/pseuds/Silverilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The world is a terrible place filled with terrible people. Sometimes, though, terrible people can bear incredible birthday gifts. For instance, you are currently on your knees, and Cave Johnson is standing over you."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Johnson Caves

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DeadlyCrocker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeadlyCrocker/gifts).



> In April, I began posting installments for a birthday gift for my best friend, Rose. Now, the full fic is ready to be posted. It’s Cave/Reader, but please note that because the “reader” is a specific person, some reactions will feel “out of character” for some readers.

The world is a terrible place filled with terrible people. Sometimes, though, terrible people can bear incredible birthday gifts. For instance, you are currently on your knees, and Cave Johnson is standing over you.

“You’re gonna be a good girl, right? Do everything I tell you?”

You nod enthusiastically, and a hard burst of pain crashes through your ears as he slaps you across the face.

“Use your words, princess.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl,” he murmurs, and you flush with pleasure. Being affirmed is pretty fun as it is, but when it’s Cave Johnson affirming you…oh, you are  _so_ ready for this.

The beautiful asshole circles you, his gaze approvingly taking in your features. “You’ll do,” he teases, and you squeak at the notion. “Up.”

After a moment of starstruck paralysis, you manage to stand. He isn’t much taller than you, and he’s probably about your weight, but the way he’s standing (in short, like an arrogant douchebag) makes you feel tiny in comparison. You could easily take him in a fight, but he holds immense power over you, and you love it—especially now that his fingers are caught under the waistband of your panties. You mentally beg him to rip them off of you, even though underwear can be incredibly expensive. Instead, he leans in, his words a low growl in your ear: “Take these off.”

That approach is even sexier than panty-ripping.

Obediently, you step out of your underwear. At his command, you remove your bra as well. He is fully clothed, but you are fully exposed, your entire body his to play with. You can hardly wait.

“Hands on the bed,” he orders, and you follow his instruction. It’s his bed, and it’s luxurious, the chocolate-coloured comforter smooth and slippery under your fingers. You clench the blanket with your ass in the air, wondering what he could be thinking. Then, you hear the soft click of a container opening. When he touches you, his fingers are cool and slippery. They circle the tight entrance of your ass.

It’s clear what he wants to do, and you are  _so_ here for it. With an excited squeak, you press your ass against him, encouraging him to take you. He laughs. “You really go for what you want, huh, kiddo? I like that—but I’m in charge here.”

“Yes, sir!”

You’re impatient, but at least you don’t have to wait too long for him to enter you. This is Cave Johnson, after all; he’s not exactly in the habit of delaying his own gratification. Before you can do so much as whine, you feel a wet finger pressing against your asshole. You welcome it, easily letting it through until the digit is securely inside you. There’s a bit of pressure, but it’s not even approaching painful, especially as you’re no stranger to sticking things up your butt. You try to register in your mind that this is  _Cave Johnson_  and he’s taking you, little by little.

He begins a slow motion, drawing his finger in and out of you. His other hand reaches forward, taking one of your breasts into his palm. You’re pleased, and so is he; you have pretty awesome tits. His fondling sends a hot thread of desire to your groin, your cunt practically throbbing with yearning. You want him to take more of you, to take all of you, to fill you up and leave nothing behind, but it’s hard to complain when Cave Johnson is fingering your ass.

At least, it’s hard to complain until he stops.

You try to stifle your whine as he vacates your ass, but you’re not particularly successful. That wasn’t _nearly_ enough to satisfy you, even if it  _was_ Cave Johnson. He laughs again. “Just can’t get enough of me, huh?”

“ _No_ , sir.”

“Relax,” he chides, but you can hear the grin in his voice. Unsurprisingly, he seems to approve of being needed. “That was just a warm-up.”

You hear him open the bottle of lube again, every sound contributing to the tension deep in your belly. It’s hard to be relaxed when you’re so excited, but you remind yourself that there’s probably a reason he’s using lube, and in that case it’d be best for your muscles to be prepared. When you feel wet, cold object at your ass, you know you’ve made the right decision.

“Open up,” he says, and you oblige, allowing the metal butt plug to penetrate you.

You close your eyes and relish the sensation. The object isn’t thick enough to hurt you, but it definitely has more girth than a mere finger, and more weight as well. You wouldn’t necessarily call it _comfortable_ , but you love how it fills you, hard and unrelenting.

“There.” The CEO sounds as satisfied as you feel. “Pretty plug for a pretty girl. We’ll just keep that in you for now. Stand up.”

It takes a bit more time than usual, the plug shifting within you and introducing you to all sorts of new sensations, but you manage to stand. He turns you to him, and your knees nearly buckle as you catch sight of his salacious grin. He is a terrible, terrible person, and you really hope he’ll do equally terrible things to you. It’s as you’re thinking this that he pulls your body to his, and then Cave Johnson is kissing you.

His kiss is fervent, almost violent, taking control with little attention given to your input. You can barely hope to match him, but you respond with enthusiasm nevertheless. As you feel his tongue push past your lips, he squeezes your breast again, his grip unrelenting. His free hand finds your ass, grabbing it as well, and you moan as the plug shifts its position. You lose yourself in the kiss, inhaling the scent of cigars and Aperture, spurts of light exploding behind your eyelids as you squeeze them shut. It lasts an eternity; it lasts a nanosecond. When he’s finished with you, he shoves you hard onto the bed.

You’re not exactly sure what he’s planning, but you know you have a mild problem on your hands. As hot as it is to have Cave Johnson fucking you, he’s not really the type to take safety precautions. Luckily, you know how his mind works, and you’re able to convince him that it would be  _really_ sexy if he washed his hands before moving on to the next step. Although you don’t say it, a urinary tract infection would be a lot lesssexy.

After a quick detour into his bathroom, he returns, his fingers fresh and clean. Oh, God. He looks aroused as ever—oh, and he’s naked. You don’t get much of a chance to enjoy the view, though; he immediately bounds toward you, pushing your legs apart.

Kneeling by the edge of the bed, the CEO kisses your ankle. He’s quick and rough as his mouth travels up your legs, kissing and sucking and biting in a haphazard fashion. You can tell he’s trying to tease you, but he’s not very good at it. He’s too impatient, too ready to lap you up, and soon enough his mouth is buried between your thighs. From the first swipe of his tongue, you know you’re in for something unforgettable.

It’s messy and animalistic and imperfect. He’s not exactly an expert at this, but what he lacks in technique he makes up for in enthusiasm. You squirm under his mouth, breathy moans painting the air, gasping when his lips tug against your clit. He doesn’t linger there long, though, instead spreading open-mouthed kisses along your folds before licking them hungrily from bottom to top, over and over again. The butt plug adds a layer of intensity that is amplified when his fingers slip inside your cunt, filling you from both ends. You resist begging for more, even though you’d be perfectly happy if his fist was inside you at this point.

It’s hard to know what to do in this situation. A very loud part of you wants you to get lost in sensation—and there’s certainly a lot of sensation going on here. On the other hand, it’s hard to lose yourself completely when you are so fully aware that  _Cave Johnson is eating you out._ At first you can barely strike up enough nerve to even touch him, finally resting a wary hand on his head. You feel cautious, reverent—but then he pulls you closer. His efforts double, he finds your clit once more, and you can no longer concentrate on keeping your touch light.

Your fingers twist in his hair as he sucks hard on your sensitive skin. You know that it won’t take much for you to cum, not after so much terrific foreplay. His motions are arrhythmic, sending bursts of pleasure up your spine at irregular intervals, making you twitch under his mouth. As his speed increases, he finds a rhythm, allowing your impending orgasm to build. Every inch of you coils tight in anticipation as you feel pressure climb inside you, aching for release.

With one last suck he sends you over the edge, pleasure overriding your senses and your thoughts, your body jerking uncontrollably against him. You think you cry out, but you hear nothing more than your heart pounding in your ears. He doesn’t let go, his mouth persistent even as you writhe against him, dragging out your climax until it almost hurts. Then, finally, he releases you. You flop against the bed, panting and sweaty and barely aware of your own existence.

You have no idea how long you lay there, adrift in afterglow. It’s probably only a few seconds, but it feels like a blissful eternity. When you finally come back to earth, you catch his gaze. His lips are curled into a predatory grin. “You done?”

Weakly, you nod.

“Good. Now that you’re ready for me, it’s my turn.”

You think you manage a squeak of confusion in response. Does he want a blow job? You’re totally up for giving a blow job. You might need a few minutes to remember how your mouth works, but once that happens, you’ll be ready to go.

He laughs at your teeny-tiny noise. “You didn’t think I was gonna let you have all the fun, did you?” You try to get up, but he pushes you back down. “Stay there. I wanna take what’s mine.”

The words, like so much else that he says, sound like something out of a crappy porno—but somehow, with him, it works. You are fully aware of his douchebaggery; you just don’t care. His smile makes up for it—and if not, his ample chest hair does. Caught up in these thoughts (and still feeling sluggish in your post-climax state), it takes you a few moments to catch onto his plan. By the time his cock is wrapped in a condom and pressed against your cunt, though, you’ve figured things out.

_Best day ever_.

The thick shaft has no trouble pushing past your lips, your entrance already slick and relaxed from the work of his fingers. Still, as the tip enters you, you can’t help but moan. This is so surreal. This is  _Cave Johnson._ Cave Johnson’s  _cock_ is inside you. In the first motion, he only manages to insert a few inches, but his second thrust allows for a little more. His third movement fills you completely, his balls flush against you.

Then he really starts to move.

When Cave Johnson fucks someone, he fucks them  _hard._ Normally, you’re not really into potential cervix-bruising, but this is a special case; he’s careless and rough and self-absorbed, and you love it. ****Still, you might need to work a bit yourself to get off. You reach a hand between your legs, rubbing your fingers around your clit to amplify the sensation. It’s still slick with his saliva, and you’re still sensitive as hell.

_Oh, gosh._ Even though he’s not paying much attention to your needs, his thick cock is heaven against your g-spot, filling you over and over again, stroking the butt plug from inside you. Meanwhile, the work of your own fingers is already composing the prelude to a second orgasm within you. He slaps you again, a burst of pain eliminating your other senses for a moment. You don’t know exactly why he slapped you—probably just because he could—but you don’t complain, fresh arousal spiralling to your cunt.

He is warm, his face flushed, his chest hair damp with sweat. With delight, you notice some of his belly bouncing back and forth with his rhythm, the side effect of his doughy but powerful physique.  _Hot._ Your own body rocks against the bed, pressed forward by his immense power, twisting the blanket beneath you, and— _oh!_  The plug shifts, too, pushing into your ass. It makes you feel so much tighter, so full. Golly, you’re already about to cum again! You try to hold back, to prolong the winding pressure, but you can’t help yourself. With a sharp gasp, you fall into your climax.

Release streaks through you, completely engulfing your body. It’s deeper this time, overwhelming, making the world slip away for a few endless seconds.  _Ohgodohgodohgodohgodoh…_  Your cunt is likely squeezing the living daylights out of his cock, but that’s neither here nor there. You can’t remember who you are—you can barely remember who  _he_ is—but existence doesn’t really matter when you’re having a mindblowing orgasm.

In short, this is pretty fucking fantastic.

After some time (somewhere between a second and a decade—it’s hard to tell time when you’ve forgotten you exist), you regain some sense of self and look dizzily into his face. His lips are curled in a self-satisfied grin. ****

You expect him to keep pounding into you, to take you until he’s finished with you, but he slowly comes to a stop.  _What?_ Isn’t he going to cum inside you? If that’s the case, then why is he pulling out already? You mewl in protest, feeling unhappily empty as you feel his cock drag away from your cunt. ****

Wait! An idea comes to you, filling you with excitement. Maybe he’s going to cum on your chest—or your face! You look up at him, your eyes wide, and he smirks back.

“Good girl. Now roll over.”

_Roll over?_

Your confusion is interrupted with another harsh slap. “ _Now_ , princess.”

Of course, you obey. He pulls you up to your hands and knees before giving you a spank, making you cry out. Then his hand drops, resting against the butt plug, and you realize exactly what he wants.

_Oh_.

You’ve pictured this for so long, playing it out with fingers and toys, that your ass is well-trained. In ideal circumstances with the right amount of care, you know this could be a perfect situation—but this is Cave Johnson. Cave Johnson is certainly ideal, but he is also a hurricane, powerful and domineering and destructive. To put it bluntly, he doesn’t seem like the type who would really give a shit about whether or not his cock rips your ass apart. Fun as that might sound, you do have an ounce of common sense whispering in your ear and pointing out the negative repercussions of this activity. That whisper, which sounds suspiciously like that of your protective best friend, makes you say it: “Slow. Please.”

You feel his hand slide up your back, a trail of goosebumps following his touch, until he is holding your shoulder. He leans forward, his lips brushing your ear. “You want me to go slow?”

The words send a delicious shiver through your body. “Yes, sir. Please.”

Against your ear, you can feel the corner of his lip lift into a smirk. “Yeah? What makes you think you have any say? What’re you gonna do to keep me from fucking your ass raw right now?”

You don’t bother to stifle your moan. It’s still hard to deny that you’d let him do just about anything—but you have to have  _some_ self-control. Anal tearing is no joke. “Anything,” you say, and it’s true. He’s worth any pain or humiliation; he’s  _Cave Johnson._  “Anything for you.”

He chuckles. Apparently, that was a good enough response. “I’ll have to take you up on that sometime.” His hand has drifted back to your ass, fingers caressing the plug inside you. He slowly pushes against it once before dragging it out of your body and setting it on the floor. You whimper, feeling tender from the plug, but you’re glad to have had it in to prepare you for this.

There’s the soft click of a cap opening, reassuring you that he’s going to continue using lubricant. You feel his fingers, cool and wet with lube, against your ass before slips a digit inside. He massages the flesh, ensuring that you are open and ready for him. You remind yourself to relax. When he is apparently satisfied, he withdraws.

His cock presses against your ass.

The appendage is as slick as his finger, readied with lube, but of course it’s thicker than the digit. It’s thicker than the butt plug, too, but you feel prepared—and not just because you’re generally eager to have Cave Johnson fucking you in the ass. Thanks to your training, you really are ready.  

True to his word (which, all things considered, might be a first), he starts out slow. He eases his shaft into you, little by little, testing to see how much you can take. To your delight, you hear him groan. You welcome him, feeling him stretch your ass, your muscles pushing out to let him in. “ _Good girl_ ,” he croons, and you nearly cum again right then and there.

He slides out, leaving you painfully empty for a single moment before he enters you again. You arch against him, desperate to be filled, to have  _all_ of him. His hands are slick with sweat against your skin; his breath is ragged in your ear. You take him deep, but not completely. A whimper slips through your lips.

“Th-that’s it.” His hot breath caresses your ear as he leans over you, his mouth tantalizingly close. “Doing great, sweetheart.” You can’t actually manage a verbal response right now, too caught up in the yield of your ass, in how he fills you. There’s a squeaky sort of whine, though, and he laughs, which only makes things worse (and better). The musk of his sweat is a tantalizing scent.

You eagerly push him deeper, loving how he shudders from the sensation. With each thrust, you take more of him, until at last his balls are flush against you. It’s hard to keep your ass in the air when the experience of  _him_ makes you want to melt. Fortunately, he yanks hard on your hair, forcing you to keep yourself focused.

His withdraws are unhurried, making you pulse with need. He’s doing exactly as you requested, and you’re starting to regret it. You want more, you want it harder, you want it faster, even as your ass aches deliciously with the stretch of his cock. Your head drops, pressing against the bed, and you listen to the low ostinato of his intermittent moans—until finally, your own impatience gets the best of you. You’ve had enough foreplay, and your ass seems equipped enough to take him. Why won’t he just _fuck_ you already?!

Oh, right. You begged him not to. Well, that’s easily remedied. “More,” you squeak, your voice barely audible in his presence. It’s surprising you can get  _any_ words out, considering how overwhelmed you feel. “Harder.  _Please_.”

He doesn’t ask for any clarification. In mere seconds, he’s tripled his speed, ramming hard into your ass. He’s clutching your hips so hard, you’re sure to bruise—but you sure as hell don’t care. You’re too caught up in the force of him, in the way he fills you over and over again. He doesn’t care how you want it and he doesn’t care about your needs. He doesn’t care about anything but satisfying Cave Johnson. You’re just a tool for his gratification, and you love it.

You can feel your pulse in your cunt as he drives into you; an ass-fucking from Cave Johnson is always a turn-on, after all. You move to stroke yourself, to feed your arousal, but he grabs your hand and pins it to the bed. It would seem you’re maxed out on orgasms this time around, and this is all about  _him_. Oh, well. This is still hot.

He pounds into you over and over, forcing a hard pressure into your ass. Your tits are starting to ache from swinging back and forth, your neck tensing as you remind yourself to keep from collapsing. It hurts— _you_  hurt—but you don’t care. You’re  _his_ , and you can feel him approaching his climax with every escalating thrust.

He gives a high-pitched whine and his body starts to tense, fingertips digging into you as if he’s trying to break a rock. One more grunt, one more thrust, and he meets his edge, spilling hot cum into your ass with a groan. His limbs twitch against you and you take most of his weight as he lets go. He’s lost himself; in this moment, he’s vulnerable. He’s crushing and impressive and powerful and vulnerable, and he’s cumming in your ass.

Seriously. This is the best. Day.  _Ever_.

He doesn’t continue his thrusts as he falls into orgasm, though you do a little rocking yourself to help him along. After a few seconds of moaning and quivering, he comes to the end of his climax, panting from the effort. Slowly—agonizingly—he pulls out of your ass. You can feel his cum dripping in your crack, making its way to your thighs.

You collapse on the bed, and he comes to rest beside you. “Good work, kiddo.”

It’s all the reward you need.


End file.
